


Shrimps, Too Much Champagne and Two Idiots in Love

by thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Champagne, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Post Season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21735730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: Captain James Gordon is practicing his brooding when he gets a call to get the Penguin who's very drunk and causing trouble on public transport. Or the story where shrimps are not used for their intended purpose, and Oswald falls in love over a cup of tea. (I don't know, I suck at summaries!).
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52
Collections: Gobblepot Winter 2019





	Shrimps, Too Much Champagne and Two Idiots in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [priscilacross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/priscilacross/gifts).



> Hi everyone, long time no see! I started writing this as a way to cope with writer's block, but then work got super busy, and this story became ever longer.
> 
> The idea came from me seeing a tipsy woman eat shrimp with cocktail sauce (M&S in the UK sells is at a snack) while drinking white wine. Priscilacross suggested the gobblepot version, and so this silliness was born, which also fits the "too much champagne" prompt for Gobblepot Winter 2019! Many thanks to Nekomata589191 for the beta! :)
> 
> I'd love to write another story for Xmas, but if life gets too hard, then I'd just like to say thank you to everyone! Hope you enjoy!

Jim Gordon was sitting in his office, watching as even the tireless Alvarez finally got his coat and left, leaving Captain Gordon alone, sans the officer on duty and the janitor who was probably rehearsing for his Gotham's Got Talent debut based on his singing. Jim really should have gone home sooner, to spare his ears at least, but he lost track of time while trying out different brooding poses by his window. No, he absolutely didn't want to impress anyone. 

His phone started ringing, making Jim flinch and curse. "Gordon." 

"Ah, Captain! You're still there. I'm very sorry to bother you, but we have a situation." 

"What happened?" 

"Well. There's an unruly customer on the train." 

Jim blinked. "That's hardly my division, is it?" 

The woman on the other end of the line sighed. "It's the Penguin, sir." 

"Why didn't you start with that?!" 

* * *

Jim heard that famous voice first before he saw its owner, unmistakable, making Jim's skin break out in goosebumps for several reasons. 

"Even though they don't do those terrible things at Arkham anymore, the place is an absolute dump."

"I thought you said you were in Blackgate, Penguin," a clearly non-sober spectator chimed in. 

"That's because you don't pay attention, Jeremy!" Oswald screamed, and Jim rolled his eyes as he sneakily got closer. 

It was only then that he noticed Oswald sprawled across two seats, looking pompous as ever in his purple coat with fur and feathers. He was eating a package of shrimp with cocktail sauce, dipping the pink snack into the unnaturally orange sauce, eating it with gusto, and then sipping on champagne from what Jim was certain was a crystal flute. Jim tried very hard not to laugh at the scenery. 

"I was in Blackgate this time," Oswald continued his lecture, gesturing with a shrimp in his hand. "Only for a week, but clipping a bird's wings is a crime."

"Penguins can't fly anyway, right?" Jeremy asked loudly again, and Jim could swear this man had no self-preservation skills, so he decided to intervene before Oswald gutted this clueless drunk.

"Sharing your prison stories, Oswald?" Jim asked as he stepped forward, internally cringing at his opening line.

"Yes, want to hear the one where a self-righteous cop arrested me?" 

"No, I'm good."

"It's about you, Jim," Oswald spat. 

Jim rolled his eyes. "Yes, I was there." 

Jim's tone reached Oswald even through the haze of alcohol. His eyes darkened, and he sat upright, so he could yell at Jim properly. 

"Jim, you…you, absolute imbecile! _ Jimbecile _ ," Oswald said and his eyes lit up with his genius offence, laughing at the detective's expense. "Jimbecile! Even your name was made to reflect your traitorous nature."

"Haha, very funny. Let's get you out of here before you cause more trouble." 

"No." 

"Oswald, don't make me cuff you in front of these people."

The gangster's response was to throw a shrimp at Jim. Or well, in his direction anyway, missing Jim by a lot. "Come and get me." 

"I am." 

Oswald really didn't plan his escape properly, because Jim was there before he could even try to stand up. 

"Oh damn your fit physique, Captain Gordon." 

Jim ignored the comment, focusing instead on getting Oswald to stand up. Only a few steps in, however, and the gangster tripped in the narrow aisle. Jim reacted quickly, and caught him, holding Oswald perhaps more tightly than necessary. 

"Careful." 

"Oh… I think I had too much champagne," Oswald admitted, hands hovering about Jim. 

"You don't say. Where's your cane?"

Oswald's eyes widened, looking around in panic. "I…don't know. Lost it." 

"Or broke it on a poor bastard's back?" Jim laughed, putting his arm around Oswald's waist. "Come on, I've got you."

Oswald didn't argue after that. He fell asleep in the car, which was probably ideal since he couldn't argue with Jim driving them to his place. He mostly had to carry Oswald to his flat, who was very pliant and all over Jim. Which wouldn't have been an issue, had he been in a different state. Jim laid Oswald on his bed and sighed with relief. 

* * *

The next morning, Oswald woke to the sound of running water. He didn't open his eyes, just pulled the duvet higher and made himself more comfortable. Not long after, he realised the bed felt different than his… Because he was in a bed that wasn't his. Oh f-

It didn't take long to identify that he was in Jim's bedroom. Sadly - or perhaps not, considering his state the night before - it didn't seem like Jim had spent the night next to him. His coat and suit jacket were neatly laid on a chair, his shoes by the bed. Otherwise he was fully dressed, his modesty intact, yet Oswald still blushed. 

The sounds coming from the other room became louder, so Oswald got up, holding his head as he sauntered into the living room - where he noticed a blanket on the sofa, no doubt Jim's bed for the night. 

"I'm in the kitchen," Jim announced, glancing at Oswald before he returned to the stove. 

Oswald was not sure if this was real or his headache was so bad that he'd started hallucinating. But his headache was very much real, so he slumped into a chair, holding his head up with a hand, while watching Jim fry up a mouthwatering breakfast. 

"How's your head?" 

"Ugh," was the intelligent reply from the gangster. 

Jim was prepared, he gave Oswald two pills and a glass of orange juice. Oswald vaguely noted that it was even the branded stuff. Did fatherhood soften Jim? Was that why he was treating Oswald like this? 

And yet he threw Oswald into Blackgate after everything. 

Jim put a plate with toast, eggs and bacon in front of Oswald who watched it with crossed arms. His anger had returned full force, without alcohol damping it. 

"You should eat, it's supposed to help with your hangover," Jim said, tucking in bravely. 

Oswald dunked a piece of toast in the shiny yolk. "It's a bit difficult eating in the company of the man who makes a hobby out of putting me behind bars."

Jim, the rascal, had the gall to smirk. "A hobby? Really? It literally happened twice in six years." 

Oswald bit into a rasher of bacon fiercely. "Whatever you may call it. I thought after everything we've been through, you wouldn't put me in jail." 

Jim nodded as he'd expected this. "It wasn't easy or pleasant for me if that's what you're implying." 

"That's exactly what I'm implying, you imbecile." 

The word triggered both of them, Oswald's memory suddenly coming back.  _ Jimbecile _ . That was the worst pun in the history of puns. Hot embarrassment rushed through his body, while Jim snorted, trying not to laugh too hard. Why was he so joyful, was something wrong with him?

They stayed silent for a little while, until Jim spoke up. "Do you know how much you'd normally get for what you've done?" 

Oswald shrugged, nibbling on more bacon. 

"One to three years," Jim replied, suddenly more serious. "How much did you stay?" 

"A week," Oswald mumbled. 

"Louder, I can't hear you."

"Tsk, you heard me." Oswald rubbed his face, his thoughts a right mess.

"So maybe I'm not such a traitor as you'd like to think."

Jim got up with his plate, his back tense as he started washing the dishes. Oswald ate in silence, though he wasn't really feeling like it, but he didn't want to upset Jim even more.

"I assume you'd like to shower?" 

Oswald nodded, surprised by the offer. He thought he'd be thrown out as soon as Jim could face him. 

"Let's get you some fresh clothes."

Oswald watched Jim as he looked through his drawers, selecting a soft pair of joggers and a blue, long sleeve shirt. He went into the bathroom without a word, his mind going over Jim's words as the blissful, hot water spray hit him. 

He had rushed his judgment of Jim's motives. All along, Oswald only looked at the fact that Jim had locked him up, but he'd never realised that it was just a facade. A week was a ridiculously short stay at Blackgate, but Oswald just couldn't cope with Jim betraying him again. That's why he had also got drunk after his release; his whole being yearned to see Jim the moment he was set free, but he forbade himself. He even got on a train, thinking of leaving Gotham and Jim behind. 

And now he was in Jim's bathroom, about to put on Jim's clothes (which smelled so nice!), and face the man after calling him various names, each worse than the other. At least his head wasn't pounding so badly anymore. 

Oswald halted for a second as his eyes fell on Jim sitting on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee, a second one steaming on the table. So, he wouldn't be thrown out, not yet. To celebrate this small victory, Oswald decided that he was going to drink his cup of coffee to the last bitter drop, because Jim was just too nice and he couldn't deal with all this. 

But when he sat next to Jim and reached for his own cup, he couldn't help saying out loud. "This is tea." 

He looked at Jim with wide eyes, the detective misunderstanding his look. "I thought you preferred tea to coffee." 

Oswald's eyes became wider, and in that moment he knew he loved Jim, always had and always would. "I do. Thank you." 

He took a careful sip of tea, but it was too hot, so he put his cup down. Maybe he was still drunk from last night, but Oswald quickly leaned in and kissed Jim's cheek, just a brief touch, then immediately looked away. Probably shouldn't have done that. 

"Was that for the tea?" Jim asked after a short while, his tone bemused. 

At least he didn't seem upset, so Oswald met his eyes. "No, not really, I mean yes, that too, but mostly for not… keeping me locked away for years. And I apologise profusely for throwing a shrimp at you."

Oswald cringed, watching Jim from the corner of his eyes. The detective seemed unfazed; in fact, he looked smug, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, wouldn't say you threw that  _ at _ me. In my vicinity would be more accurate."

Oswald rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Fine. I'd also like to apologise for uh, the things I called you last night." 

Jim snorted. "You mean the Jimbecile part? Not sure I can forget that as easily…" 

"Oh." Oswald's heart sank. 

"Because it was really funny." 

"Jim!" Oswald exclaimed, playfully shoving Jim who was laughing with his head thrown back. 

Soon, however, he surprised Oswald by pressing a kiss to his left cheek. 

"What was that for?"

Jim didn't say anything, but didn't stop smiling, couldn't stop doing it. 

"You like me!" Oswald said, and now he was the smug one while Jim pretended that he wasn't blushing. 

"Shut up, Oswald," Jim finally said with no heat behind his words, but put his arm around Oswald's shoulder and brought him closer. 

Oswald was very keen to snuggle up even more, sighing as he leaned against Jim's shoulder. This was the most comfortable he'd ever been. 

"Can we have shrimps later?" 

"Absolutely not." 


End file.
